


My beautiful melody

by Leon_Kuwata_Kinnie



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Eventual Smut, F/M, Past Abuse, Self Harm, x Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:15:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28857948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leon_Kuwata_Kinnie/pseuds/Leon_Kuwata_Kinnie
Relationships: Kuwata Leon/Reader
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

Reader POV:

You sat on the edge of your bed, wondering if the pain you were forced to endure will ever end. It had been at least a year since the incident that put you in this stupid hospital. You’re just glad you weren’t alone here. Though the circumstances could be better, at least you and your mom are away from...him. “(y/n), dear. There’s a man claiming to be your father here to see you” says the nurse at your doorway. As soon as you hear it, you begin to panic and start scratching your wrists. ‘No, no, NO!!! He can’t be here…’ you think to yourself as you see a large bearded man poke his head in. He had a large smile and kind eyes, but you saw him for the monster he truly was. “Get out…” you whisper to him as he sits down next to you. He looks at you, his face plastered with a look of concern as he takes your hand. “What? It’s me, Monkey. Why are you-” he’s quickly cut off by a “GET OUT!” followed by a slipper nearly missing his head. “YOU HURT ME!! YOU HURT MOM! YOU DID THIS TO US!! WHY WOULD I EVER WANNA SEE YOU AFTER THAT?!” you scream at him as he’s running down the hallway. It was nice to see him not have a beer in his hand, not screaming at your mom for things she didn’t do, not throwing cups and plates at her when they argued. You wanted to believe he was clean, for the sake of him still being your father, you truly did. But his unshaved face and dirty white tank top said otherwise. You asked the nurse how long it would be until you and your mom could go home, but she simply smiled and said “we’ll just have to pray some more” and left without another word. You were starting to worry, school was starting soon and you didn’t wanna stay in the hospital for fear of missing your friends. But little did you know, just down the hall in room N037, stayed the only friend you’d ever need.

Leon’s POV:

The nurse sighed when she looked at my battered face, this was the third time I was in here this month. “What happened this time, Mr. Kuwata?” she asked, already knowing the answer. I told her I was at the batting cage and ended up catching more of the balls with my face than my hands, which is true. Those suckers hurt, by the way. She cleaned up the blood, which I apologized for getting all over her floor, and put bandages over where the balls broke skin. She decided to keep me for about 2 weeks to see how my wounds would heal. I laid down on the bed on my stomach, staring at the bright pink spot on the floor, and thought to myself ‘I really gotta choose a new hobby’ before dozing off.


	2. YOU!!!

Reader POV:

2 weeks later:

I was finally released from the hospital, but where would I go now? Surely, my aunt, Cheryl would take me in, right? I called her to make sure it was okay, but it said the number was no longer in use, so I called a local hotel to see how much rooms cost. I used my card to pay over the phone for a week, I couldn’t afford any longer than that without a job. I called a cab to take mom and I to the hotel since my father probably sold the car for drugs. I waited inside until I got the text that the driver was here and walked outside. The man popped out and looked at my mom and I with a look of sheer confusion. “A-are you...Leon Kuwata?” he asks, and not a moment later a tall red-haired guy rushes past us and yells “nope, that’s me. I’m staying at the Lotus ‘till school starts”. He turns to look at me, and I finally get a good look at him. He’s kinda hot, with icy blue eyes, fiery red hair, a matching goatee with a silver bead, a labret piercing, as well as having his tongue and right ear pierced. The latter of which was pierced A LOT, 4 rings and a helix cuff. I plan to open a tattoo and piercing shop when I finish school, so I’ve been studying all the different types and how much they hurt. “Hey, uh, ya done eye-fucking me yet? Places to be, ya know?” he says with a weirded-out expression. “O-oh uh...sorry…” I say, blushing slightly at the fact that he called it “eye-fucking”. He wasn’t wrong, but it still hurt. After a quick laugh, he says a final “see ya round, dumpster face” and gets in the car. The last thing you remember thinking is ‘don’t let me catch him in MY shop…’

Leon’s POV:

As I leave towards the hotel, I start thinking about that girl. The one who was giving my rings goo-goo eyes...what did I call her again? “Dumpster face? Really? what in the Kentucky fried fuck consumed you to call her that? That girl was smoooookin' and was just lookin' all of your piercings, dude” my driver says to me while staring me down through the rearview. I roll my eyes and go back to looking out the car window. I guess she was ok, I wouldn’t go so far as to call her “cute”, but she’s not the worst I’ve seen. We show up at the hotel about 10 minutes later and I walk in the door, only to find dumpster face herself standing in MY lobby, well, my dad’s lobby, but STILL! 

No one’s POV:

Leon tried to greet (y/n) with the warmest smile he could muster, but that didn’t last long. Instead, he used his normal “bored outta my mind” voice to ‘welcome’ his new guests. “Welcome to the Lotus Hotel, My name’s Leon and I guess I’ll be signing you in today. Name and year of birth, please”.

“(Y/N) (L/N), 1993”

He looked up at her when she said her date of birth, there is NO WAY was she 17. He didn’t want to- no- he WOULDN’T believe it. She looked no older than 12.

“Your REAL year of birth, please,” he said, this time actually looking at her

(y/n) repeated herself, this time with great annoyance in her voice. Leon didn’t want to argue with her so he just gave in and gave her the key. As she made her way to the elevator, he made one last comment he forgot. “Complimentary breakfast is served from 6 to 9 am every morning, but remember there are other people here so...enjoy your stay”. And with that, she simply scoffed and walked away.


	3. Good morning

Leon’s POV:

I woke up the next morning with a strong urge to make breakfast, so I made muffins, waffles, and pancakes, put out cereal and packaged oatmeal, made coffee, and set out pitchers of orange juice and milk. Usually, either my dad or the maids would do it, but I got up early ‘cause I slept like shit and decided “why the hell not?”. I don’t know why I was doing all of this, though. Most of the people in this glorified tin can were entitled, rich celebrities that were too “important” to give a damn. The only person who came down was dumpster face, and all she got was a cup of water. I felt like that was my fault for what I said last night, so I grabbed two muffins, two glasses of milk, and 2 waffles and put them on a tray. I know it’s wrong to stalk someone, but I used the records to find her room number and put the tray on a table in front of her room with a note that read “For you and your mom. P.s sorry for what I said -L.K”. I hope she doesn’t think I like her or anything by doing that.

Reader POV  
I woke up the next morning, completely forgetting where I was at. I walked down to the lobby to get a glass of water to see a certain crimson-haired asshole setting out milk and juice. I got a glass of water and went back to my room. I gave my mom the water so she could take her meds and went back to bed. At least I tried until I heard knocking at the door. I opened the door to see a table loaded with muffins, waffles, and milk with a note, most likely from Leon. I simply scoffed, closed the door, and went back to bed. You can’t just call people fat and then bring them food. This needs to stop...NOW.

I go downstairs to the receptionist’s suite and knock on the door. Instead of Leon, a large man with slightly darker red hair answers. “May I help you?” he asks in a gravelly voice, and I tell him I’m here to see Leon. He, quite literally, YELLS for Leon and I jump at the sound of his voice. Leon walks out, his hair a mess, in a white bathrobe with little baseballs all over it. “C-can we talk...this fighting needs to stop,” I say, trying not to laugh at his current state. He looks so cu- WHAT?! NO!! I DID NOT JUST ALMOST CALL HIM….CUTE. He looks at me, clearly confused at why I was there, and said “whatever, meet me in 5” in a tired voice. I guess we’re doing this then.


End file.
